


Stancest Drabbles

by bananabog



Series: The Drabble Series [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Crack, Fluff, Incest, M/M, PWP, Stancest - Freeform, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabog/pseuds/bananabog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated Stancest drabbles / short stories in 100-, 300-, or freeform word formats. </p><p>Mostly from prompts taken on my tumblr. Anything under 1,000-words goes in here, basically. Ratings of each drabble will be indicated in the title.<br/><b>Listed as "Completed" as it'll no longer be updated.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. See You In Your Nightmares, Kid - Gen/Fluff

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt and rating of each drabble will be indicated in the titles. Any warnings that apply to that particular fic will be in the notes.
> 
> My drabbles will be categorized into the following: 
> 
> NSFW: Yes / No / Slight
> 
> \- Gen/Fluff  
> \- Angst  
> \- Crack  
> \- Porn  
>   
> Drabbles are either based off requests taken on my tumblr (I say as I futilely try to remain anonymous) or just random one shots I felt like writing. Fics longer than 1,000 words will be posted separately.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Comforting each other after nightmares."
> 
> 2 x 300-word drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains finale spoilers. Slight descriptions of gore. (There’s also mention of character death(s), but it’s during nightmares, so. Not real.) Angst, then fluff.

Mabel is dead.

Dipper is dead.

Mabel and Dipper are _dead_ and –

“ _It’s all my fault._ ”

“Stanley – ”

“ _I_ killed _them_ ,” he babbles. The tears aren’t stopping. They burn as they fall and his heart _hurts_ – he wants to throw up because he can still _see_ them. Can still see the way Mabel’s head turns limply, the way her gaze goes lifeless, frozen permanently in a look of broken betrayal. Can still hear Dipper’s screams as they taper off into thick gurgles and blood-filled coughs, the wet crunching sound his ribcage makes when his fragile body is crushed into oblivion. “They’re _dead_ , and it’s all because I couldn’t shake your stupid _hand…!_ ”

Ford’s presence leaves him and Stan makes a pained noise, curls tighter over himself. Of course. His brother must hate him. _Has_ to hate him. He _deserves_ it, it’s what he fucking _gets_. What fucking good was bringing Ford back, _if everything ended like this_ –

Something soft lands against his head and he flinches with a yelp.  

The night lamp clicks on, and the springs squeak as Ford settles back beside him.

“Look at this.” Ford’s voice is commanding, but gentle. 

Stan looks. He’s unable to register what he’s seeing for a few seconds.

“…it’s a sweater.” It’s a hideous pink, too. He can make out the blurred yellows of “Goodbye Stan” that have been stitched into its front. He tightens his fists in it as Ford continues to rub at his shoulders, “Mabel made it – made it for me – before her an’ Dipper went home to – went home to –”

He starts crying all over again, but this time it’s from relief. They’re not dead. He hasn’t killed them and _they’re not dead_ …

Ford kisses his hairline. He rocks Stanley in their embrace until the sobs recede.

x x x

Not for the first time, he wakes up with a weapon in his face.

Stan used to freak out whenever this happened. Now?

It’s just part of routine.

“Dimension Forty-Six Apostrophe Backslash,” he intones, sounding almost bored, as Ford’s eyes dart wildly from his face, to the darkened interior of their cabin, then back again. “Year: Twenty Thirteen. You’re Stanford Filbrick Pines, my asshole of an identical twin brother, who’s somehow both a genius and an idiot at the same time – ”

“ – _urgh_.” Ford lowers the taser and scrubs agitatedly at his face.” Yeah, I’m – I’m good now, Stan, thanks.”

“ – except-not-really-brother-anymore, because, _y’know_ , you finally admitted how _gay_ you’ve been for me since forever about  a year ago – ”

“ _Thank you_ , Stanley.”

Stan smirks at the telltale reddening of Ford’s ears.

“ – not t’mention all that kissin’ we do. And the huggin’, and the f – ”

“You _realize_ I’m still holding a taser.”

Stan raises his hands in mock surrender, throwing in a dramatic flinch for full effect. “Oh no. A _taser._ Whatever will I do about that _how about this_ – ”

He leans in and Ford meets him readily, rolling his eyes as he does. Stan feels his twin’s lips quirk against his and he chuckles, rumbling in satisfaction as Ford stows away the weapon so they can link their fingers together. Six warm, calloused, familiar fingers weave into his five; a perfect fit (as they’ve always been).

Ford sighs as they break the kiss.

“I don’t know if…” He leans his head against Stan’s chest. “…if they’ll ever go away. From a logical standpoint, it’s ridiculous. There’s _no_ reason for them to keep recurring if I’m already – ”

“—yeah, yeah. Just… shut up and lemme hug ya.”

Ford squeezes their hands. Stan squeezes right back.


	2. See You In Your Nightmares, Kid - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: "mermaids seduce stanley, ford screams".
> 
> 5 x 100-drabbles. Crack.

**Mermaid**

Stan looks thoroughly displeased. And extremely disappointed.

“Like _hell_ you’re a mermaid.”

“Mer _man_ ,” retorts the… well, _merman_ , in front of them. He tosses seaweed-tangled locks of otherwise luscious brown hair over a tanned shoulder, and crosses toned arms over a flat chest. “Now, are you going to let me go, or do I need to summon my brothers?”

Stan rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“…got any sisters?”

“Do excuse my companion,” Ford interrupts, shoving Stan aside. He begins cutting at the nets that hold the merman hostage.

“Hey, it’s not my fault he _looked_ like a hot babe!”

“Stanley. Shut. Up.”

 x x x

**Selkie**

Ford pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Stanley. _Where is it_.”

“Where’s _what?_ ”

“The skin, you knucklehead!” Ford snaps. “I _know_ you took it!”

Stan sighs and stomps away. 

He comes back on deck with a hefty armful of glossy seal hide ( _“Shoulda sold it when I had the chance…!”_ ) and dumps it unceremoniously over the rails.

There’s a large spray of water as it hits the waves. Mermando (yes, that’s his real name, apparently) glares lividly at them as his wife re-surfaces in her wrinkled, much larger natural form, and chatters irately at them.

“…You’ve looked better,” Stan grumbles.

 x x x

**Harpy**

“Goddammit, Stanley! I _told_ you!” Ford screams, as they trip and stumble across the beach back towards the Stan-O-War II, as the flock of very angry, very  _weaponized_ harpies descend upon them, “Don’t! Touch! _Anything!_ ”

“They were just hangin’ out!” Stan swings a fist blindly behind him. Feathers scatter and something squawks indignantly. “It was practically an open invitation!”

“’They’?” Stanford echoes, and shoots a confused glance at the buffet – at the trap – that they’ve just escaped from.  Then to their literally bare-breasted pursuers.

Everything clicks horribly.

“I was talking about the FOOD, Stanley!!”

“WELL, YOU SHOULDA BEEN MORE SPECIFIC!”

x x x

**Siren**

He knocks Stan out with absolutely no warning.

Then stuffs his brother’s ears with wax plugs, handcuffs him, ties him down with more rope than is probably necessary, and triple-bolts the cabin door shut behind him, as he stomps back towards the helm.

He’s been pulling their asses out of more situations than he’d have liked there to be, and this is NOT going to be one of them.

“I’M GAY,” he shouts, as their ship steers by the sirens. He flips off their harmonized screeching with all four of his middle fingers. “ENTICE THIS, BITCHES. I’M MOTHERFUCKING _STANFORD PINES_ – ”

x x x

**Scylla and Charybdis**

“You _can’t_ be serious.”

“Deadly.” Ford’s grin is diabolical, relentless.

Stan’s face scrunches in disgusted defeat.

“…Option 1,” Stan mutters. He winces, steeling himself.

Ford shrugs nonchalantly. “Suit yourself.”

He drops the electric eel into the tub Stanley’s tied down to and leaves just as the other starts screaming.

“It’ll keep shocking you the more you agitate it,” he calls, over the terrified shrills. He bites down into the sea cucumber – Option 2 – and grimaces a little as it bursts juicily inside his mouth. Urgh. Maybe he should’ve made sure it was dead, first. Oh well.

“Needs salt,” he mutters.  


	3. Ceremonial Ship Launching (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "stancest on the Stan-O-War II, bottom!Ford"
> 
> 100-word drabble.

“ – gonna fuck you wide open,” Stan pants, grinning savagely, and Ford’s moans take on another octave altogether, “Gonna fuck you _so hard_ you’ll start babblin’ that nerd language of yours without even realizing it – ”

“– it’s Xortopian – _AHH_!”

“Yeah, gonna pound ya, gonna give it t’ya _real good_.” Ford’s trashing wildly now, nearly screaming his ecstasy. “And when you come, I’m gonna pick you right up, fuck ya on another part’a the ship.” Stan speeds up his thrusts. “Gonna fuckin’  _christen the whole goddamn place with our cum_.”

Ford laughs. He can’t stop. He loves him, _loves -_ -


	4. Twice the Deal - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "2fordsAU, old and young ford getting into each other's nerves for young Stanley"
> 
> 1 x 100-word drabble.

“He’s _mine_.”

Ford’s grip tightens on Stan’s arm. Stan yelps.

The other Ford shifts his weight and cocks an eyebrow.

“He _was_ mine, still _is_ , and I’ve got more experience than the both of you do  _combined_.”

Both Fords resume staring each other down.

Stan’s fairly certain that if he were to literally step between the two right now, he would find himself cleaved in half.

“Uh,” he squeaks, swallowing audibly as both look over at him with identical expressions of pure, unadulterated _hunger_ , “I… don’t mind sharing?”

The way they grin in unison makes him instantly regret the offer.


	5. Fuse - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "angst with unintentional good natured gaslighting gone wrong"
> 
> 400-word drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the finale. Slight implications of past BillFord.

_“Why.”_

Ford chances a glance at his twin and instantly regrets it. Stan’s _livid_. His brother has always been more prone to anger than he is, a literal hothead, but when Stan gets _quiet_ like this, and when he stops shouting and _talks_ instead with that dangerously hushed, too-calm voice, Ford knows he’s fucked. They may have forty years of distance between them, but this much about Stan hasn’t changed.

“Why what?” He knows, of course. They both know exactly what this conversation is leading to.

“Why did you _lie._ ”

Ford sighs deeply and reluctantly, turns in his seat so that he bodily faces Stan. His brother’s rubbing at his right shoulder, perhaps reflexively. His expression is a contortion of pain and betrayal, and for an instant – but only an instant – Ford falters.

“It was for the best.”

“Bullshit!” Stan’s fist goes into the doorway with a thunderous crack. A picture on the wall tumbles off, shattering on impact. “You know as well as I do – even  _better_ than I do, in fact! – that covering up the past isn’t going to – I’m _supposed_ to trust – ! I _trusted_ – _God fucking DAMN IT, FORD!!_ ” he roars, and the dam shatters fully as Stan stalks right up to him, fists his hands in Ford’s sweater, and bodily slams him back against the wall.

Ford takes this all with complete silence and with absolutely no resistance.

“Why the _hell_ would you tell me that this _wasn’t_ an accident?” Stanley’s crying. He hates seeing Stan cry, but he won’t back down on this. He can’t. “What made you think it was _okay_ to tell me that – to make me believe! – that you hurt me on  _purpose?_ Are you trying to make me _hate_ you, Poindexter? Because that’s what it fucking _feels_ like you’re trying to do!”

“You need to hate me.” He recites this in an easy monotone. It’s not a difficult thing to do – it’s what he’s been telling himself for forty years. “I _want_ you to hate me.”

“But _why?!_ ” Stan shakes him. “We _finally_ get somewhere with… with _this_ , whatever the hell we are! – and you just want to _kill_ it! _Why won’t you give us a chance?!_ ”

“I can’t.” He can’t let his heart get ripped out again. He’s been in love once, and he’s been nothing but regretful, scarred. It won’t happen again. “I’m sorry, Stanley. I just… can’t.”  


	6. When the Bough Breaks - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Stan bottle feeding ford"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anon who requested this probably wanted it in a more sexual manner instead but I literally and figuratively don’t have the balls to write baby!kink, so. Have angst. 
> 
> I am so, so sorry.

She smiles, nodding politely as he laughs at his own jokes. He slaps his knee and conspiratorially nudges the quieter man besides him.

They’re twins. Both have dementia. 

One has it worse.

He’d checked them both in, the instant he’d realized what was happening. Every morning, he pulls himself out of bed, reads through the reminders he’s made for himself, and smiles as he goes about their daily routines.

 _My name is Stan Pines. This is my brother, Ford._ Stan sets the feeding bottle aside, and gently wipes away the rivulets from Ford’s chin. _We love each other very much._


	7. Jingle (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Bound and gagged Ford pleasured by toys"
> 
> 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elements of bdsm, bondage, gagging, and toys.

Sure, Ford has all four of his limbs tied to the bed post. There’s a sizable gag between his teeth, and a rather large, ribbed vibrator that Stan is languidly screwing in and out of him with. But Ford is very clearly in control of the entire situation, and Stan simply _cannot_ understand how his brother hasn’t fallen to pieces yet.

He’s mesmerized by the way the toy disappears into Ford, as he rolls his hips back down against its intrusion, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He takes it nearly all the way to its flared base before gliding smoothly back up its length (and Stan _feels_ how every little bump and ridge catches against his slick hole), then down again as he repeats the motion, his body undulating as smoothly and coolly as a snake’s.

Ford moans through the gag. It’s a long, deep-throated purr that has Stan groaning in kind and his hips stuttering into the mattress.      

“So _hot_ ,” he breathes.

This gets him an unimpressed eye roll from the other and so Stan tries again, “So… gorgeous?” 

The barest of nods. Stan moves on, encouraged, “Love how you arch your back. Love the way you spread those thick thighs for me, when I push it in like this…”

He presses in the toy and holds it this time, stretching Ford where it’s at its widest. Ford lets his head tip back at this, sighing appreciatively as he grinds down into the sweet sting of it.

Stan rumbles as he moves upwards to kiss him.

“Doin’ okay?” he murmurs into Ford’s ear.

Ford chuckles through his gag. He noses gently and assuredly back against the stubble of Stan’s cheek, then briefly displays their safeword – a bracelet of bells –  that are still clutched securely within his fist.

_Keep going._


	8. Fuse, Prequel - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "a prequel to the gaslighting small fic"
> 
> 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manipulative behaviors and messed up psychologies. Spoilers for the finale.

“So…” Stan starts, distractedly rubbing at his shoulder again, “I get the feeling there’s more to this than some stupid college prank gone wrong.”

 _Here is it._ Ford takes a breath. He’s played out this scenario in his head multiple times. _Tell him the truth. Tell him the –_

“I gave it to you.” _Good._ “We were fighting. I was trying to get my journal back and you weren’t having any of it.” _Tell him what really happened. Don’t lie to Stanley._ Don’t _betray his –_  “I was so angry, all I wanted to do was hurt you, so you would understand.” _No, stop, what are you doing?!_ “So I… pushed you into the console and branded you.” _Fuck. Why. Why did he have to_ say _that why couldn’t he just –_

“…That’s _it?_ ” Stan’s incredulous. And maybe… a little resentful. Ford doesn’t miss the way Stan minutely flinches away from him. “That’s seriously _it_? ‘I was a dick, so I burned ya’? That’s… that’s messed up.”

“I _was_ a dick.” The corner of his lip twitches upwards with none of the humor. “Still am one, apparently, if you were to ask yourself about it.”

Stanley doesn’t say anything for a while, just frowning, looking like he’s trying to recall something important and Ford doesn’t know why, but he keeps _going_ , “I tried to get rid of you, after you brought me back. Told you, you could get out of my sight as soon as the summer was – ”

“Stop.” Stan’s rubbing at his temples. “I don’t… I’m not sure I want to listen ta anymore’a that.”

Ford obliges the request.

“…why _did_ I bring you back?” Stan asks. He sounds… hurt. Confused. Disgusted… but whether it’s with himself or with the other, Ford isn’t sure.

“I could ask the same thing.”


	9. Pick On Someone Your Own Age (Slight NSFW) - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "old Stan with a young Ford"
> 
> 100-drabble.

“Oh. My.  _God._ ”

His brother’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

 _“I can explain,”_  Ford stammers. He’s become a lot scrawnier, for one, and slightly shorter, and he trips over the bagginess of his now-loose pant legs. The trench coat flaps like an open sail behind him. “This is temporary. …I think. God knows I don’t want to explain to my niece and nephew why their sixty-something-year-old great-uncle has suddenly regressed into a _teenager_ , and – ”

“ – do you still want to have sex, are you legal,” Stan blurts.  

Ford stares at him, incredulous.

Stan’s _hard_.

_“…Seriously?!”_


	10. Don't Ask About the Cycloptopus (NSFW) - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "tentacle sex"

“Honestly, it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

Stanford pants and writhes as the tentacles snake across his torso, slither across the crease where his legs meet his body, and curl lazily around his thighs. He keeps talking as he’s lifted into the air, and the thick, slimy appendages begin prodding him in more, ah, _sensitive_ areas, “See, there’s – _mmm!_ – t-twelve tentacles, right, and _ohhhh fuck, yes, right there!_  – only four of them have s-suction cups. You _ahh!_ – won’t get hurt if you – ”

 _“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STANFORD,”_ Stan yells. _“I AM_ NOT _FUCKING THE GODDAMN CTHULHU!”_


	11. Ice Flowers - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It's cold on the Nothern Seas."
> 
> 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has brief mentions of alcoholism and even vaguer implications to past prostitution and suicidal inclinations.

Stan hates the cold.

It takes him back to the hard, awful times he’d spent sleeping alone in his dinged-up car – legs cramped from trying and failing to tuck them to his chest; the mass of old, greasy takeout boxes and sticky, used paper cups his sole and faithful passenger; fingers so painfully numb he could barely hold the ice scraper long enough to be able to marginally clear his windows. It brings up unwanted memories of shivering in the streets for hours; desperately trying to scrape together enough money in whatever ways he could – stealing, begging, other insalubrious methods – in order to have made it to Gravity Falls as soon as he had.

It reminds him of the thirty long, horrible years after that fateful day. Thirty winters which he’d spent mostly drunk and almost always alone, constantly debating whether he should keep going or end it altogether (with ‘it’ covering a great list of things, both material and not, that Stan had desperately wanted over with).    

Ford thankfully had the sense to get a hydro-something heater installed into the Stan-O-War II, before they’d begun their journey. It’s convenient, but the initial warming up always takes a while, and ‘a while’ in the frigid Northern Seas is sometimes too long for Stan to be left alone reminiscing.  

Stan startles as the bed dips under Ford’s weight, whining slightly when the cold air seeps in, as his brother slips under the covers. He’s swiftly pacified, however, when Ford’s warm, strong arms wrap around him and pull him back into inviting heat.

“You’re like a fuckin’ furnace,” Stan grouses. He buries his icy nose and cheeks into his twin’s chest. “What didja eat for breakfast? Coal?”

“Shut up.” Ford tugs his brother’s hands under his armpits.

They entwine their legs together.  


	12. Write Your Name in the Mirror (Slight NSFW) - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Cozy moment in the shower."
> 
> Freeform, 390+ words.

It’s not the first time Stan’s slipped into the shower with him, nor is it the first time they’ve laid eyes on each others’ bare forms, but Ford still tenses up whenever he feels like he’s too exposed.

Stanley’s sort of turned it into his job to ease his brother back down whenever this happens. He does this now, as he hums out impromptu lyrics to ‘The Bathing with my Brother Who’s Gay For Me Song’, notifying Ford of his presence in the bathroom (he’d learnt the hard, painful way not to set off Ford’s innate defense mechanisms if he could help it).

“Comin’ in,” he calls. When he doesn’t get any sort of refusal, he pulls aside the shower curtains and steps into the tub behind Ford.

The bathroom walls are already layered with a thin coat of condensation. A slight inclination of Ford’s head towards him and the self-conscious square of his shoulders are the only cues Stan receives that signal his brother’s aware of him, as the comfortably-hot water tumbles down onto the both of them.

Stan continues humming casually, as he pumps a few squirts of the body wash into his hands before settling them over Ford’s shoulders. He starts lathering his twin up, almost massaging the foam into him as he presses his thumbs into the thick curvature of his trapezius, brushing his fingers over Ford’s sensitive sides, and as he traces the line of his spine down to the prominent dimples residing just above his buttocks.

“Love it,” he says, quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips and in his voice. He runs his palms affectionately again across the expanse of Ford’s sculpted back, this time lingering reverently at each of the numerous scars, both devastatingly apparent and inconspicuously subtle, that litter his body. “Love these.”

Ford thinks they mar his figure, but Stan sees them as accents, highlights – testaments and tributes to the strength and growth of his character.

“Love you.”

He begins pressing kisses to each of them in turn, as the water washes the foam away from both of their bodies. Ford’s newly cleansed skin tastes like sweet success as the other finally, finally relaxes into his administrations.    

x x x

He ruins the moment by settling his hands onto his brother’s hips and playfully humping him.

Ford groans. _“Get out.”_


	13. It’s Normal Once You’re Married (NSFW) - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "domestic stans" + "fluffy/awkward sex" + "cuddling/sexing" on the Stan-O-War II.
> 
> 5 x 100-drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fail!sex.
> 
> The "prompt titles" were taken from actual websites.

**The condom falls off**

“ _Oh,_ ” Ford groans, “oh, god, _yes_ , right there, Stan. Right there, _right theee_ EOW! _Stanley!_ What are you – ?!”

 _“It’s fine!”_ Stan just keeps… fishing around. “Just… need a sec… A- _HA!_ ”

Ford yelps again as _something_ dislodges. His consternation swiftly vaporizes, disgust replacing his rage, “Oh, for…! Would you STOP buying condoms that won’t fit you?! That’s the _third_ time this month that – wait, what on earth are you – _oh sweet JESUS, don’t just_ roll it back on _, you Neanderthal!_ That is INCREDIBLY unhygienic and…! No. _…NO._ IF YOU PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM, _SO HELP ME_ – ”  

x x x

**My boyfriend moaned his cat’s name during sex**

Stan’s face is hot enough to re-heat their water.

“…did you,” Ford starts, in complete disbelief, as Stan begins rapidly shaking his head in denial, “Did you _just_ …?”

“ _No!_ You didn’t hear that!” Stan’s refusing to meet his gaze. Ford still has three fingers inside of him and – and he has absolutely no idea  what to do with his hands in this situation so he just… continues to keep them awkwardly in there, “L-Let’s just – carry on like that didn’t happen. Okay?!”

“Gompers.” His voice is a monotone. “’ _Oh my god, Gompers_ ’? Really?!”

“IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK,” Stan shrills.

x x x

**When it won’t stay hard**

“Okay, stop, this isn’t – it’s not happening.”

“Yeah you can,” Stan breathes, voice husky as he continues to move, “come on, come for me – ”

“No, Stan, I _literally_ cannot get it up,” Ford growls, amidst the raucous cawing. They separate with disappointed grunts.

“How do you feel about roasted seagull tonight?” Ford asks, but he’s up on deck before Stan can even process the question. Something that sounds suspiciously like the flamethrowers from Dimension F’138 roar to life overhead, followed by several audible thumps of small, charred masses hitting the floorboards.

“Don’t catch fire this time,” Stan calls, sighing.

x x x

**I stopped my boyfriend in the middle of sex so we could floss together**

“No.” Ford crosses his legs, scowling as Stan continues to whine. “That is not coming anywhere near my penis until your mouth is as free of bacteria as humanly possible.”

“Wh’ ca’n yuu jush shay ‘dick’ lik’a narmal pershun,” Stan complains around his toothbrush.

“And the mouthwash,” Ford intones. Stan groans loudly, but complies.

“How the fuck are you still hard,” he gripes, as they finally resume where they’ve left off, “you can’t get it up when there’re seagulls around, but you’re fine waiting while I brush my mouth?”

“Oh! Don’t forget to clean your dentures – ”

“Oh, come on!”

x x x

**You will look at the person lying next to you and wonder, Is this it? Forever?**

“ – shit,” Stan whispers.

He arches back into Ford, moaning softly, hips stuttering to a still; panting quietly while Ford continues to roll deeply into him, hand gently working over Stan’s length as he draws out his brother’s orgasm. Ford follows shortly after, pressing his forehead into Stan’s neck as he shudders.

Stan kisses him as Ford slowly relaxes against his back. He sighs when Ford pulls out, but then they’re back in each others’ arms, both rumbling contentedly from the aftermath of slow, satisfying sex.

They bask in the sweet afterglow.  

“Mornin’,” Stan murmurs, grinning.

Ford smiles. 

“Good morning.”


	14. Thread Count (NSFW) - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "finally sharing a bed again" + "sleeping in the same bed for the first time".
> 
> 6 x 100-drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a brief bit of slight dub-con, angst, fluff. Spoilers for events leading up to and after the finale.

Stanley scrambles back under the covers with a fearful yelp as a deafening crack of thunder rends the air.

Ford contemplates lulling his brother to sleep with a detailed breakdown about the speed of sound; how to calculate the distance of a storm from the time between the lightning striking and the thunder sounding. He settles for something that’s painfully inaccurate instead.

 _“Did you know,”_ he begins, as he crawls in alongside his twin, his tone holding the promise of thrill and undiscovered mysteries, “that those are actually the sounds of the _sky gods fighting?”_

Stanley likes thunderstorms after that.

x x x

“Aren’t we getting a little too old for this?”

“Did you want me to leave?” Stan waits approximately five complete seconds, before snorting and settling back. “That’s what I thought.”

“…It’s inappropriate.” Ford is like a plank of driftwood against him, rigid and inflexible. “We’re not _kids_ anymore, Stanley, we… we shouldn’t be lying with each other like this.”

“I _like_ you,” Stan pronounces.

“I uh, like you too, but – ”

“Then there’s no problem.”

The words are confidently spoken, but there are times Stan’s lies don’t hold as much conviction as he thinks they do.

He squeezes Stanley’s hands.

x x x

It’s not the first time they’ve shared the same bed, but the previous times have never been quite like this.

He’s scared. He’s excited. He’s delirious with joy and sick with fear – they _both_ are, he knows this without needing to ask – and yet… neither of them want to stop.

It’s wrong. It should _feel_ wrong… but it doesn’t. He supposes it’s because they were born _(to be)_ together.  

 _Stanford_ , he gasps, laughing, crying, shivering and shaking uncontrollably from the sheer intensity of it, from how overwhelming it is, from how fantastically  _right_ it feels, _Stanford, Stanford, Stanford…!_

He falls.

x x x

They don’t share a bed again until they’re both wrinkled and grey.

The silence is awful. Stanley bites down into his hand as his brother – who’s more of a stranger at this point, honestly – pushes into him, muffling his shouts into a pillow as Stanford pounds into him, the sounds of their not-lovemaking echoing shallowly off the walls.  

He _hates_ this. He _wants_ this.

He wants this but not like _this_.

He shatters the stillness as he nears his end.

“I _missed_ you,” he chokes. _“I missed you so fucking – ”_

He sleeps alone that night, as he always has.

x x x

They sit on the opposite ends of the bed. It’s like their first time all over again (it might as well be).

Stanford clears his throat and coughs. “We, um… We don’t need to do anything. Just not _tonight_ , I mean,” he amends swiftly, at Stan’s disconsolate expression, “It’s been… a _very_ long day after a very stressful week, after all, a-and I don’t want to – I mean, I _do_ , but… we should confirm that all of your memory has returned before we partake in anything, ah… amorous.”

“…could I at least get a kiss?” Stan grouses.

Ford obliges, chuckling.

x x x

“ _One_ bed?”

 _“One bed,”_ Stanford confirms.

The Stan-O-War II isn’t gigantic, but there’s definitely more than enough room to fit two beds inside the cabin.

Stan crosses his arms and frowns, nervous, uncertain… Afraid.

“…are y’sure?”

Ford replies by tugging Stan down onto the pillows. He covers Stan with his own body and just… _worships_ him: with his hands, his mouth; his words, his gestures.

Stanley’s a flustered, quivering mess when they finally pause to breathe.  

“I’ve got a lot of mistakes to make up for,” Stanford whispers, smiling.

He makes sure Stanley is thoroughly convinced that Stanford loves him.


	15. It’s How You Apply the Force - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 2fordsAU, "older!Ford poses at a teacher at teen!Stan's school"
> 
> 6 x 100-drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied Stancest/2Fords1Stan, and slight mentions of very short-lived Starla. Gratuitous screwing around of canon facts.

The chalk taps out against the blackboard in short, dusty strokes.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, Mr. Malcolm Studders was involved in a very unfortunately timed, non-lethal, ah… _mishap_ , this morning. I therefore decided – that is, I was _requested_ – to teach today’s class in his stead.”

The substitute teacher turns around and dusts off his hands. Several girls swoon audibly. A couple of boys do too, including Stanley.

Stanford doesn’t stop glaring at his infatuated twin. The teacher smirks in their direction.

“Steve Pinington,” Older Ford says, “But please, call me Steve. Now, textbooks to page 69, please.”

x x x

“ – and then – and then he _said_ – ” Stanley’s giggling. He’s actually fucking giggling. _Again_. “And then he said, ‘ _Tell me a Potassium joke_.’ And then he said… ‘ _K_ ’! Get it?! Because ‘K’ is the symbol for – ”

“I got full marks for Chemistry while you somehow managed to achieve _negative_ figures, Stanley,” Stanford deadpans.

The insult doesn’t even phase him. Stan just keeps going, “Oh, _oh_! And then there was, ‘ _I think I lost an electron. In fact, I’m… POSITIVE!_ ’ HA!” He slaps his knee and wipes a tear from his eye. “Comedy GOLD!”

“Yeah,” Stanford grumbles. “Absolutely _AU_ -some.”

x x x

“So what are you _really_ here for?”

It’s after class hours. There’s some faint shrieking and laughing coming from the football field, but the classroom and the corridors outside it remain otherwise unused.

Older Ford calmly turns a page.

“To win a bet.”

“At _my_ expense,” Stanford growls, unpleasantly.

“To your _advantage_ , you mean.” Older Ford shuts the book he’s reading. There’s a ludicrous picture of a white cat wearing glasses and a bow tie on its cover. He steeples his fingers before him and leans towards Younger Ford, the very image of deviousness.

“There’s no logic to sabotaging myself.”

x x x

“Carla agreed to go on a date with you if you aced the next Chem test.”

Stan chokes on a toffee peanut. Ford continues coolly leaning against the door to their room, while Stan aggressively pounds on his own chest.

“What the _hell_ ,” Stan says, once his airway is successfully cleared, “How did – why would you – ?!”

“Do you _want_ to bang Carla McCorkle, or _not_?” Ford asks.

 _“Hell yeah,”_ Stan blurts, still dumbstruck, “but aren’t _we_ …? Why would you…?”

Ford smirks. “Hey, that’s what brothers do. ‘ _Bros before hoes_ ’, right?”

Stan grins. “I have no idea what that means.”

x x x

Stanley gets a better score than Stanford. It’s a world record. The teacher suspects Ford might have dumbed himself down a tad for this test to make Stanley feel better about his own marks, but regardless, Stanley earning anything over an eighty is still really impressive.

“Hey, baby,” Stan greets Carla, who looks flabbergasted, “Are ya made of Copper and Tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te!”

He dates Carla. They go to The Juke Joint.

She tolerates approximately forty-three more of his chemistry-related pick up jokes before she spots a blindingly attractive hippie on stage that she can conveniently abscond together with.  

x x x

“Okay, you’re just screwing around with me because you can, now.” Stanley groans and thumps his head into his palm. Stanford just keeps sniggering behind him. “I got together with Carla because I beat the shit outta the mugger that was tryin’ ta rob her. Not because’a you!”

“Maybe.” Stanford idly tosses his line back into the ocean. “Who knows. There are hundreds of alternate universes. Thousands of possibilities. Millions of multiple timelines and outcomes. Maybe I didn’t actually _need_ to manipulate history in one of them.”

“Kiss my Arsenic Sulfide, Ford – oh my GOD _WHY DO I KNOW THAT?!”_


	16. Say Gargalesthesia Three Times Fast - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "something with Stan, Ford, and tickling"  
> 100-drabble, fluff.

Stan scrambles back, eyes wide. This… had _not_ gone according to plan. Not at all.

“Impossible,” he chokes. “It used to be your one weakness…!”

“Yes, it was… when I was a _child_ , Stanley.” Ford looms over him menacingly. His grin is frighteningly wide. “I’ve trained myself. Grown resistant. Developed defenses. Evolved into a more _superior_ state. The likes of Knismesis and Gargalesis no longer have any effect on me… but I doubt that the same can be said for _you_.”

“…I have no fucking clue what you’re going on abou-LATER, SUCKER!”

Stan tosses down a smoke bomb and _runs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, tickling has scientific terms. Who knew.   
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knismesis_and_gargalesis


	17. Melting Point (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "dom!Stanley showing his horny want for Ford"
> 
> 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight elements of bdsm, mild dirty talk.

“ _Look_ at you.”

Stan drags the ice down, tantalizingly slow against flushed skin: from the hollow of his collar bone to a cold divide between the halves of his rib cage; down the trail of wiry hair leading to his navel and below it.

Ford moans as Stan begins drawing lazy circles into his pubic region. The ice leaves chilly rivulets as it melts, running down the sides of his hips, along the crease of his inner thighs, dripping off onto the sheets below them. Ford can _feel_ the wet spots they leave beneath him as he continues thrusting his hips against the air.

“So needy.” He teases what little remains of the cube against the base of Ford’s straining cock, dripping some over his balls. Ford arches clear off the bed with a strangled gasp of pure arousal. “So _desperate_. You _wish_ I would move on, don’t you? Want me to hurry it up. Stop _fucking around_ and _give it to you._ ”

Ford whines in response. Stan chuckles. He pops the remnants of the ice into his mouth and crawls up over the other.

He dips his head and latches over a stiffened nipple. The very tip of his tongue is still cold, and he circles around the hard nub with it, licking and sucking until it grows warm in his mouth again.  

A six-fingered hand threads through his hair and grips it roughly.

Stan’s grin is wicked, debased. “…I _swear_ you keep doing this on purpose.”

“Of course not.” Ford tugs at his hair lightly, playfully, before returning his hand to its place on the headboard. He cants his hips towards Stan, an equally corrupt smirk on his lips. “Guess you’ll have to do that all over again until I learn how to keep my hands off you.”


	18. Must Wanna Get Nasty (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wank. Literal. Wanking.
> 
> 2 x 300-drabbles. UST AHOY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "#no one does enough stuff on the twins beating off to each other "
> 
> CHALLENGE ALSO ACCEPTED

Stan has the _filthiest_ mouth Ford has ever come across, and that includes all the different dimensions he’s been through.

It’s huskier than it had been in their youth. More gravelly. Impossibly lower. Gruff. Tough. Gritty. All very Stanley qualities.

He thinks, maybe, that he thinks about his brother too much. Like this morning, when Stan had accidentally dropped the toaster on his foot. He’d started loudly cursing, and Ford’s train of thought had immediately u-turned, re-routed, and leapt clear off the diving board and into the deep end of _I wonder if that’s what he sounds like when he’s getting fucked._

“Jeeeesus fucking _christ_.” Stan hopped around pitifully on one slipper-clad foot, bathrobe flapping ridiculously, “Ssssson of a BITCH, goddamn piece of – _Ungh!_ Ahh, ahh, ahh. Shit…! Fuck. Fuckity fuck _fuck_. Ohhh, fucking hell, jesus _christ_.”

“You alright,” Ford tossed out offhandedly, from where he was still pretending to be engrossed in a very interesting article about the Ten Top Text Messaging Abbreviations of 2012 while also being _incredibly aware_ of how _tight_ his trousers had suddenly become.

“ _Just fine_ ,” Stan gritted. He turned around and walked straight into an open cupboard door. “ _MOTHERFU_ – OHH! FUCK! FUCKING… _GOD!_ JESUS! SON OF A CHRIST!”

“I’m just… going to make sure the children heard none of all that,” Ford said lightly, as he slipped away from the breakfast table.

“Yeah. Yeah, good,” Stan whimpered, hands over his head. “Fuck. _Ohhh_. Jesus. Uhn.”

Stanford’s fumbling madly with his pants before the door even finishes shutting behind him. He sinks back against the wood, hand already pumping feverishly, Stanley’s voice still in his ears.

 _Fuck,_ this Stan moans, _Fuck, Sixer, shit; so good – feels SO good! Fuck me, fill me, oh, OH! F-FUCK!_

Ford muffles his scream into a palm as he comes.

x x x

Ford’s _really_ starting to piss him off.

His brother’s always kind of been a know-it-all, arrogant prick, but lately Stanley finds he wants nothing more than to wipe that condescending look off of his twin’s face. And possibly in the most violent ways he can come up with. He wants to punch it clear off Ford’s face, then smash said face against the wall and just _grind it down_ against the plaster until the only expression Ford’s capable of making would be of one pleading for mercy.

His thoughts about Ford always start out that way: Angry, frustrated fantasies, that turn into just ‘Frustrated Fantasies’, and then after a while Frustration just goes _you know what, fuck this denial bullshit, I’m out_ , leaving just Fantasies alone.

He’s probably taking too long in the Outhouse of Mystery, but, what the heck. It’s been a slow day.

 _Just letting off steam,_ he chides himself for the umpteenth time, as he spits into his palm and begins tentatively stroking his already stiffened cock. _S’not like anything’s ever going to happen. Hell, Ford even barely_ looks _at you, and when he does it’s with that stupid, half-lidded gaze that says he’s not impressed and I’ll fucking show you how_ unimpressed _you’re going to be,_ Poindexter _, when I shove you against the wall and ravage you. Going to fucking mark you. Leave so many bruises and hickeys, you’d need a full body suit to cover them up. Gonna finger you slowly, stretch you good and wide, until you can only whimper my name. Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t even remember_ your _goddamn name. Gonna make you_ scream _because of how good_ I _make_ you _feel. Because_ you _want me. Because_ you _need me. Because_ I _– !_

It’s a good thing his shirt’s already white.

x x x

They meet each other in the hallway.

“Stanley,” Ford greets, monotonous, nose high.  

“Piss off,” Stanley mutters.

They walk past.


	19. Trolley Problem - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "as a last option, what choice do you think he takes? His Brother or the world"
> 
> Spoilers for Weirdmageddon. 100-drabble.

_A train full of passengers is hurtling down a broken track that, for them, ends in certain death._

His brother convulses violently.

_You can divert it. However, someone close to you has accidentally wandered onto the tracks leading to safety._

There’re only seconds left before Bill takes over Stan. Takes over the world.

_Do you save one?_

Before the multiverse, the galaxy – their entire future – is doomed.

_Or do you save billions?_

“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel whispers.

_Eeny._

Dipper chokes. “Great Uncle Ford, _please_ – ”

_Meeny._

Stan’s eyelids begin fluttering, revealing slits of yellow.

_Miiny._

Ford steadies trembling hands around his gun.


	20. Thicker than Water - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "One (of the twins has) been severely wounded by the shapeshifter"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being more of a “the Shapeshifter attacked them and they counter-attacked the wrong double” kind of thing, whoops. Mystery twins AU-ish:

“I _hate_ you,” Ford hisses, pained. “I hate you _so much_.”

“Oh, shut up.” Stan continues applying pressure to the wound and Ford grits his teeth and thunks his head back against the wall. “Got you in the end, didn’t I?”

“It was a fifty-fifty, you idiot! You _oh god fuck –_ ”

 _“Look,”_ Stan growls as he continues pressing intently, and the blood blossoms throughout the rag beneath his hands, “I’m sorry I messed up tryin’a pick between you and the damn Shifter, a’ight? It’s been ten years. There’s still shit about you I haven’t learnt about, and that was one’a them.”

This gives Ford pause. “I didn’t… I never told you about that? About what happened…?”

Stan just shakes his head. Ford slumps.

“What _do_ you know about me?”

Stan keeps his face neutral. “Only things from when we were kids. Maybe when we were teenagers. You started getting pretty distant, then. Hard to say.”

“What’s my favorite drink?”

“Orange juice.”

“…it used to be, yes.” There’s a brief pause. “Who’s my favorite author?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Stan grits. The blood flow is starting to stem and he takes a hand off his twin’s torso to begin fumbling with a roll of bandages. “Lots of things I don’t know about you anymore, Sixer. We’re practically strangers at this point.”

They fall into a terse, guilty silence. Stan mutely pours on the antiseptic (Ford takes it noiselessly this time) and begins packing gauze over the wound.

Ford eventually ventures, quietly, “…your favorite snack is… or was… toffee peanuts?”

Stan grunts. “They were, yeah. Kinda sick of them now, though.”

“You hate egg yolks, but you’ll eat them if they’re boiled.”

“Nope. Eat everything now. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“…what happened to us?” Ford mumbles.

Stan shrugs.

“We grew up.”


	21. There's a Small Catch, Though (Slight NSFW) - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bill tortures or kills Stan in front of Ford.
> 
> 100-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for body horror and gore.

“Here’s the thing about having ultimate power.”

Bill snaps his fingers and Stan collapses. He starts vomiting. There’s a splatter of blood and then his stomach pushes its way out of his mouth, a thick, slimy, pulsing bag of flesh and veins. It falls to the floor with a wet smack as Stan continues to retch up his internal organs.

“I can do anything I want to. Anything.” Bill’s eye is expressionless as he meets Ford’s outraged, fearful gaze. “The only thing that I need permission for? It’s to enter your head.”

Ford shakes as he opens his mouth.

_“No.”_


	22. Steak - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Ford finding Stan having a nightmare."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have something light-hearted for once lol

Stan sleep talks.

A lot. Loudly.

It’s mostly nonsensical mumbling where he dreams he’s still running the Mystery Shack (“No refunds…!”), or where he’s with the kids (“Mabel, sweetie, m’gonna need those dentures back – ”) or where he’s re-living his last seconds against Bill (“Fuckin’… demon nacho, I’ll eat you alive! …Dip you in ranch!”).

Tonight, Stan is dreaming that he’s been turned into a cow.

Ford’s shoulders quake mightily as his brother unconsciously makes snorting noises and paws at his pillow.

“No,” he groans, “m’too stressed. Too chewy. Don’t eat me. Moooooo…!”

Stan defiantly, pointedly devours beef for days.


	23. Didn't Know You Were Into That (Slight NSFW) - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Didn't know you were into that."
> 
> 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink mention: Oviposition (egg play, egg laying). NOTHING HAPPENS. It’s just awkward-as-fuck talk about the kink itself, honestly, but still, nsfw material and possibly stuff that other people don’t want to read about, so. You've been warned.

Stan’s face scrunches up.

“So… like taking a dump. But with eggs.”

Ford rubs his neck. “Kinda…?”

“So why not just… eat a lot of crap, and _then_ take a dump?”

“…because firstly, that’s unnecessarily unhealthy, and second, you wouldn’t repeatedly pass and then return waste product back to the – ”

“I’m already turned off,” Stan grumbles, shifting uncomfortably.

“You asked,” Ford mutters, insulted. He folds his arms tightly over his chest, doing his best not to sulk.

Stan drums his fingers restlessly against the wood.

“What size?” he mumbles after a while, his face reddening.

“Any?” Ford answers, unsure whether to be embarrassed or relieved that Stan’s still engaging him, “I mean, it’s dependent on personal preference, really, and safety and comfort is another factor but – ”

“What size did _you_ use?” Stan clarifies.

It’s Ford’s turn to go pink.

“I suppose they were about this big…”

He makes a fist. Stanley’s eyes go wide.

“Holy _shit_. That’s… ow! Jesus!”

“Well I had to build up to get to that size, obviously,” Ford argues, defensively crossing his arms again. He huffs before his tone softens, self-conscious, “And I wouldn’t… wouldn’t make you take anything you couldn’t handle going in. You don’t have to. Do a-anything, that is. I understand if it isn’t your thing.”

Stan chews on his lip.

“But _you like it.”_

“Well, y-yes, but – ”

“Then, fuck it. I’m in.” He shifts over and kisses any remaining protests off of Ford’s lips. “And if I don’t, well… then at least I gave it a go.”

Ford exhales nervously. “It’s not too weird…?”

“Oh, it’s weird as hell,” Stan snorts. “It’s weird as _fuck_. But you like it, and I like _you_ , so… whatever. Let’s do it.”

Ford grins shyly as he tugs them back to their room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No kink-shaming of any sort was intended and I apologize if I've offended anyone who's read this.


	24. Onions (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "bottom!Stan" + "neck biting"
> 
> Freeform, about 590+ words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains references to Zootopia (really just taking a dig at J.K. Simmons having voiced both Stanford Pines and Mayor Lionheart, honestly) and a certain perpetually drunk blue-haired scientist whose name rhymes with Tick. Drug-use mention.

Ford practically slams him back against the door the instant they get inside.

He growls and the sound rumbles tremendously out of him, as fearsome as a lion’s roar, and Stan should probably be slightly ashamed at how fast that noise makes his dick rise to attention but he doesn’t have time to think about it, because now Stanford is attacking his neck. He’s literally raking teeth and tongue over his jugular and Stan’s moans escape him unreservedly in wild, desperate peals. His hands scrabble madly at Stanford’s clothing – why are they still _clothed_ , honestly – and he simply tilts his head back in submission and lets his brother have his way with him.

They end up fucking on the floor. _Right there_ beside the door, because shit, who has time for _bedrooms_ , _god_ , and Stan has no idea what in holy hell is going on but _it is hot_. It is _ridiculously hot_ and he’s never been this turned on by such barbarism before, and he really can’t think of another word besides ‘fucking’ to describe what they’re currently doing. (Not that he’s capable of thinking much at all at this point, to be frank.)

Stanford’s ruthless. He moves with an insatiable possessiveness that surpasses even their hormone-fuelled teenage years and yes, they are definitely fucking. Not having sex. Not making love. Pure. Outright. _Fucking._ Because Stanford’s driving in and out of him at an almost even, controlled pace, despite the frenzy he’d displayed earlier at getting Stan onto his hands and knees with nothing but a series of animalistic snarls and forceful headbutts. Stanford’s calmly, methodically fucking Stanley within _an inch of his life_ , even as he continues rumbling, nearly purring, balls slapping loud and obscenely against the other’s ass with his thrusts.

He sinks unexpectedly gentle teeth into the back of Stanley’s neck as he eventually stills, spilling hot and messy inside him.

_“Mine.”_

It’s the first and only word Stanford’s spoken since they’ve started, and Stanley keens helplessly at the proximity of those heated words so close to his ear. Stanford’s hot tongue darts out and laps at the whorl of it, licking the curled corners of the tip, before closing teeth over the lobe and _tugging_.

Six rough, warm fingers close over the five-fingered hand already feverishly stroking his cock.

Stanley bucks uncontrollably as his orgasm slams into him with all the elegance of a derailed freight train. He howls as he stains the wooden floorboards, thick white ropes of his cum just flying out of him unchecked.

He comes so hard he’s barely coherent by the time his supply finally runs out. Stanford holds him close, gently lowering them to the floor as Stanley’s legs finally give out from beneath him, as he soothes a tongue over the various teeth imprints across Stanley’s shoulders, and as he thrums contentedly into his twin’s back.

x x x

_“You drugged me.”_

Stanford’s so appalled it’s nearly funny.

“You _actually drugged me._ ”

“It wasn’t dangerous.” Stan shrugs nonchalantly, but continues pointedly ignoring his brother’s death glare. “I trust Rick. He wouldn’t give me anything that would – ”

“You’re missing the point!” Stanford yells, springing up so he can point furiously and directly at Stanley’s face, “What you did was _inconceivable!_ A v-violation of my consent – a betrayal of my trust! _I can’t_ believe _you, Stanley!”_

Stanley swallows audibly, eyes glued to the ground.

“What the _hell_ was it?!” Ford demands.

He scratches his neck. “Um… The ‘Night Howler’, I think? Pretty apt, considering, you know, the way you made me h – ”

“Buy all of them,” Ford orders.


	25. Well, That Happened (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Frotting, Ford taking Stan somewhere after a tour"
> 
> Freeform, 400+ words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW obviously aha. Porn, kinda

“Seriously? This couldn’t wait until _after_ the tour?”

“Stan Pines complaining about sex. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m not complainin’! I’m just – oh _fuck_.” Stan’s head drops back against the wood as Ford _slides_ across him again and holy god this should NOT be turning him on as much as Ford can feel it. 

The other smirks – smug bastard – and simply continues rolling his hips firmly into Stan’s where their blatant arousals are straining against the fly of their pants. 

“Dammit, Ford, tryin’a _talk_ , here – look, that tour group’s expectin’ me back in a minute. I don’t think – ” A pleasured groan tumbles fully uncensored from him and Stan slaps a hand across his mouth, partially horrified at how easily that had been drawn out before continuing in a rush, “ – an’ what I’m tryin’a say is a minute’s too short, not that I don’t think I can come in a minute, because _I totally can_ , but a minute’s too – ”

“Shut up,” Ford murmurs, leaning in, “you’re killing the mood.”

And Stan’s silenced when his brother – his _brother_ , christ – seals their mouths together and pushes his tongue into Stan’s and _plunders_ him, dragging the tip of his tongue along the underside of it, sucking at his lower lip while thrusting up against him, the friction of their clothing an agonizing but _delicious_ burn and Stan’s just moaning like a whore now, listeners be damned. He thinks he’s starting to understand why the nerd had always looked so frustrated whenever he’d sprung a quickie on him while he’d been trying to study for his finals when they had been kids and…

…and there is. Someone. Staring at them. From outside the door they’d forgotten to lock in their horny haste, and oh _, god_. It’s a _teenage girl._  And her eyes are wide, and her face is _bright pink,_ and –

“Fifty bucks!” Stan shouts suddenly, brain snapping to auto-pilot. Ford yelps in surprise and jerks away, his eyes growing equally round as he finally picks up on the source of their unwanted attention, “Fifty – wait, eighty – no, A HUNDRED! _A hundred bucks_ if ya wanna keep on voyeurizin’!”

It’s supposed to scare her off. Make her go away, so Ford can finish humping his brains out; so Stan can come his own in peace and maybe finally get back to his stupid tour. Instead, the girl – who does not once stop gawking at them the entire way – slowly reaches into her pocket for her wallet and simply shoves everything she’s got in it towards them.

The brothers stare at each other blankly.

“… _welp_ ,” Stan says. “Money’s money.”


	26. Handmade Gifts - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handmade gifts, as per the title. 
> 
> 2 x 100-drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bonus - the links in the drabbles lead to actual DIY tutorials!)

“Pick a card. Any card.”

“…aren’t the cards supposed to be face- _down_?”

Stan grunts and flaps the fanned deck of playing cards at Ford. “Hurry up, my arms are gettin’ tired.”

Ford chuckles as he draws the two of hearts, amused, and flips it over. “Am I supposed to show this to our ‘audience’, or…”

He goes quiet as he reads the handwriting on its back.

Stan fidgets in place.

“D’you… like it?”

Ford nods speechlessly, touched.

“I’m glad.” Stan holds out the deck of cards again, grinning shyly. “Here… Another fifty-one reasons why I love ya. [Pick a card.](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fvisualheart.com%2F2012%2F02%2F19%2F52-things-i-love-about-you%2F&t=MWY4YzRkMzkzNGYwN2JkNjhlODgxYWY5MWE4ODEyZmUzNjk1NDg2OCx0aGROU0VnUw%3D%3D)”

x x x

Ford hadn’t quite understood why Stan had been so upset to learn about the sea moth larvae outbreak in their closet until the other pulls out a tattered, hole-riddled, Mabel-pink _rag_ , and his heart sinks immediately.

Stan waves his brother off, but he’s obviously torn up about the loss of the cherished gift. He drops the used-to-be-a-sweater into the bin with a heavy sigh and shuffles away to mourn.

When Ford comes up to him much later, holding a similarly-colored beanie, band-aids over his pricked fingers, Stan nearly cries from happiness.

“[I did my best](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thewonderforest.com%2F2014%2F08%2Fdiy-no-sew-beanie-from-sweater.html&t=OWQwYmMyYWRkZTBmNzU4ZjQ5NTIzZmRkMzJkMTdlYzQwNjYwOWFlYix0aGROU0VnUw%3D%3D),” Ford shrugs, mouth tugging upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The last one actually links to a no-sew tutorial, but end result - the top part of the beanie - looked a lot better than the other tutorials I flipped though, so in it goes. I’d probably sew one myself though if I made it since glue tends to fall apart after a while.)
> 
> (Also! I was trying to do a ‘tarot cards with regular cards’ thing in the first one, but couldn’t quite find accurate translations for the Lovers Card (http://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/lovers/). Two of hearts seemed to fit the best according to this source. (http://www.howtoreadtarot.com/playingcards.html))


	27. Sometimes That's Just Better (Slight NSFW) - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Cuddles + Neck kisses"
> 
> 1 x 300-drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of sex, but otherwise, fluff.

“Shit.” Stan scrubs a hand down his face, horrified, agitated, and if he’s trying to wipe his tears away while performing the action Ford pretends not to notice. “ _Shit_ , I can’t… can’t _believe_ I fuckin’ fell asleep – of all the times to – ”

“You’re fine,” he stresses. He pulls the other closer to him even as Stanley tries again to wriggle away in mortification. “We’re nearly seventy. I don’t expect us to have the virility we did when we were younger.”

“Fallin’ asleep during a blowjob.” Stan covers his red face with both hands and Ford draws the other into a deeper embrace, shaking slightly with unreleased laughter, shushing him and patting the top of his head with amusement. “I’ve hit a new low.”

“’First time for everything’…?” Ford offers, smirking. Stan groans aloud and headbutts him in the chest.

“Yeah, laugh away, Mr. Still-Vaults-Over-Tabletops-Like-It’s-Nothing.”

“You’re _fine,”_ Ford repeats. He squeezes his twin and feels the other finally, reluctantly squeeze back. “Look, I’m not going to get offended just because you were too tired to fool around. If you’re not feeling it… that’s okay. We’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us. Just…” 

Ford swallows, suddenly, acutely shy. 

“…talk to me?”

 _No more secrets between us._ No matter how big, or how small. That had been their promise to each other. They _refuse_ to allow history to repeat itself – forty years of separation had been a steep price to pay for their miscommunication – but still, talking openly and honestly has never really been something either twin did.

Still… they try.

Stan eventually nods into Ford’s sternum. He presses embarrassed, apologetic kisses along the length of Ford’s neck. 

Ford releases the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and chuckles quietly as they pull themselves flush against each other.


	28. Gonna Give It To Ya (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "BDSM, don't care who tops or bottoms"
> 
> 1 x 100.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toy use.

Stanley had _not_ told him he would be bringing the children along on the day of the challenge.

 _But Stanford!_ Stan had drawled, words dripping with sarcasm, _surely you can’t say no to_ these _eager faces! They’ve been wantin’ ta go on this family picnic with their grunkles for days!_ Weeks _, even!_

So he sits through Dipper’s torrent of questions about the mysteries in the woods, and eats Mabel’s glitter-filled sandwiches, and tries his damnedest to not pop a boner and attempts to resolutely ignore the persistent vibrations of the toy in his ass.

He is going to _murder Stanley._


	29. Literally Filler (Slight NSFW) - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random location/situational prompts that I didn't end up using, but figured they deserved fills of their own just based on how crazy they were. 
> 
> 3 x 20-drabbles.

**Prompt: Setting: Portal Room, Ford just tackled Stan trying to prevent him from burning the journal**

“You have got to be kidding me,” Stanford snaps, embarrassed.

They’re _both_ hard.

Stanley shrugs helplessly. “Make love, not war…?”

x x x

**The Bunker**

Stan’s howling helplessly.

“YOU HAD A _SEX DUNGEON!!_ ”

“Those whips and handcuffs were NOT used for sexual escapades!” Ford roars.

x x x

**The Bottomless Pit**

They’re _still_ falling.

The evidence of their tryst falls along with them.

“Newton’s Law?” Stan deadpans, unamused.

“ _Second_ ,” Ford corrects.


	30. We Non-threatening - Gen/Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a hundred stories floating out there about Ford's stupid tattoo, and this is yet another one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal 3 spoilers!

“Dude, that tattoo’s fuckin’ _lame_.”

Ford freezes mid-chew, eyes snapping to Stanley’s in a silent, exasperated, and absolutely mortified, ‘I told you so’.

Stan growls. It’d taken _forever_ to convince Ford that he’d do fine in public without his usual turtleneck, embarrassing tattoos be damned. He glares down the smirking youngster in the booth behind Ford. It’s some stupid teenager, and of course, the kid’s got two full, colored, arm sleeves. Douche. He’s also got on more makeup than the young lady seated opposite him, who, by contrast, is looking clearly uncomfortable about the taunting.

“Mind yer business,” Stan says, gruffly.

He tries to return to his meal, signaling to Ford to do the same. They’re above this. They don’t need their day ruined by some snot-nosed, condescending, ignorant little –

“ _Seriously_ , that’s embarrassing. You know they can laser off that shit now, right?”

“I – “ Ford starts, indignant, just beginning to turn around so he can properly address his antagonist and probably give him twenty completely unnecessary reasons as to why tattoos made from the blood-ink of Globantuans from the planet of Ycheria in Dimension 3-Delta-56 could not simply be _‘lasered off’_ using backwards Earth technology, but Stan beats him to the chase.

“Her name was Mabel.”

The teen cocks his head and snorts, sneer faltering in confusion. “Heh?”

“That.” Stan points at Ford, and Ford gives him the same confused, lost expression, as Stan continues, “She was our niece. She drew that for him.”

“Well, that’s a shit drawing,” the teen drawls, still haughty, “My dog draws better than – ”

“She passed away three months ago. He got that in her memory.”

The arrogance drops out of the teen’s demeanor, swiftly replaced by horror. The girl’s hands fly to her mouth.

“Oh. Oh, _geez_. Man. I, wow, uh. I didn’t – ”

“Yeah. _You didn’t_ ,” Stan says. “Shut up and sit down. And _mind your business_.”

Stan turns back to his food and continues eating like nothing had happened.

The teen opens and shuts his mouth a few times, blinking idiotically, then stiffly turns back around and quietly does as Stan suggested. They can hear the girl tearing into her boyfriend with hushed but angry, seething exclamations.

Ford slowly turns back in his own seat so that he’s sitting proper again. He leans over the table towards his brother.

“Seriously?” he says lowly, so that he’s not overheard, the incredulity written all over his face. “Really?”

Stan raises his eyebrows in challenge and smugly shovels more spaghetti into his mouth.

Ford tries to summon up some form of righteous fury and fails spectacularly. He puts his face into his palm, lips twitching. “I can’t believe you lied about our great niece being _dead_.”

“ _They_ don’t know that.” Stan’s cell goes off just then, the chorus of Sev’ral Timez’s ‘CRAY CRAY’ blaring obnoxiously throughout the premises. Ford starts laughing noiselessly into his hands as Stan picks up the call with a grin. “Hey, sweetie. What’s shakin’?”


	31. CAN’T TURN BACK (Slight NSFW) - CRACK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this relationship didn’t exist before, it does now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Journal 3 spoilers. 300-drabble. Crack. OR IS IT.

Their eyes meet, and Ford’s jaw falls open from pure unadulterated horror.

“NO.”

“Oh, good, you two already know each other,” Stan breathes, grinning. “That’ll make things a lot easier – ”

“Stanley,” Ford hisses, sinking his fingers into Stan’s shoulders, clearly mortified, “this was NOT who I’d expected to meet when I agreed to help you! I’m not doing it!”

“You’re turning her down? You’re gonna break her heart!”

“She doesn’t _have_ a heart! Jesus, Stanley! Why? Why _her_?! What, six fingers wasn’t good enough for you? You had to get six hands?”

“Six hundred and sixty- _six_ hands,” the Hand Witch furnishes, leering appreciatively at them over her many, many steepled fingers. “You’ve aged well, Sixer.”

 _“Hey,”_ Stan says immediately, possessively, but not unkindly, “Lay off the nicknames, and especially that one, ya creep. You want in on this threesome or not?”

 _“NO,”_ Ford repeats again, vehemently, as the Hand Witch cackles madly in glee and bounces excitedly in her hand throne, nodding eagerly.

Stan turns to Ford and shrugs. “Two to one, Sixer. Sorry.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Ford lunges for the cave exit. He makes it about two feet before a wave of disembodied, questionably green-tinged hands immediately surge up to encapsulate his ankles.

Ford curses and kicks in vain as the hands begin to root him to the floor.

“How in god’s forsaken name did you get involved with this hideous hag, and why is it still an ongoing thing? …what happened to your clothes in the seven seconds I’ve been speaking?!”

Stan shifts his weight. The pale, round mass of his naked gut and lightened hair are a stark contrast to the dark, seething mass that’s swiftly consuming them.

“Uhhh,” Stan says eventually. “So…. There was this ring. Aaand it turned black – ”

“OH MY GOD,” Ford screams.


	32. Grin and Bear It - Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal 3 spoilers. Slight implications... what about is left up to the reader.

“I became a sea hobo.”

“Essentially.” Ford chuckles. He leans his arms over the rails next to Stan, their shoulders touching. The sun’s setting. They both let their gazes wander across the horizon.

“…so, we were okay?” Stan’s eyes are crinkled in good humor. “I mean, if other me was still writin’ other you… that’s good, right? We stayed in contact, even if… y’know.”

“Yeah.” Ford closes his fingers around his elbows and leans into his brother. He breathes in the salt air, takes in the solid warmth of his twin against him and listens to the cries of the seagulls above them. “They worked it out. They aren’t as close as we are, maybe they never were, but… I suppose that’s why that Stanley was okay with taking the journal and leaving when he was first asked to.”

_“Stanley wrote these?”_

_Fiddleford shrugs. “Heck, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met my Ford’s Stan; all I know of him is what Ford tells me ‘bout ‘im. Which hasn’t been a lot, unfortunately…”_

_“No, I mean… this…” Ford flips through the handwritten postcards, letters, and envelopes in his lap again. The handwriting’s similar, but something’s… off. Viewed separately he supposes it would have gone unnoticed, but gathered together like this it’s obvious that the letters are dated. Timed. They’ve all been mailed at set days of certain months, and the paper… they might have been splotched by sea water and gritty with sand and salt, weathered and worn by their long journey to Gravity Falls, but all of it feels… prepared._

_He doesn’t understand how the other Ford hasn’t picked up on this._

_“This_ isn’t – ”

 _He looks up and the protest dies in his throat because Fiddleford looks genuinely… blissfully_ ignorant.

_Fiddleford tips his head, curious. Behind him, through a window, the afternoon sunlight glints off the pure white walls of the building that surrounds what formerly used to be Stanford’s house._

_Ford looks back down at the letter in his hand, at the handwriting that’s supposed to look like it was written by Stanley._ Hey, Sixer, how’s it hanging? Wait until you hear about what I caught last month…

_“It’s nothing.” Ford politely folds the letter up, puts it carefully back inside its envelope. He stacks them all into a neat pile and hands the letters over to Fiddleford with a smile. “Thank you for showing these to me.”_

“Dunno how he did it.” Stan leisurely stretches and pops his shoulders, then settles back against Ford. “Heck, I don’t even wanna think about what _I’d_ have done with myself if I didn’t end up accidentally pushing you through that stupid portal. Either way… I’m glad everything worked out for us. Both here, and over there… however other dimensions we’re all in.”

_“Stanford…? Is something wrong?”_

_“Everything’s fine. It’s good to know we patched things between us in this dimension.”_

“So am I,” Ford says.


	33. No Time Like the Present (NSFW) - Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr: "sea stans [...] having a quickie in some bathroom stall in some random port"
> 
> 100- drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on Christmas, and am cross-posting it here on eve of new year's. Happy fuckin'!

He bottoms out inside Ford and their satisfied groans reverberate off the stall walls.

“Fuck, like a fucking _glove_ , shit.” Stan pants behind him.

Stan starts thrusting. Soft, rhythmic _schlicks_ intermingle with their muted grunts.

Ford’s hips helplessly grind out his orgasm as Stan roughly jerks it out of him. Stan mutters, “Fuck, fuckfuck _fuck_ ,” pulls Ford down onto him as deep as he will go and then stills with an animalistic moan.

It’s a while before they catch their breath. Ford shifts around so he can face Stan, and lovingly cups his cheek.

“ _Now_ can we go to the auction?”


End file.
